


Thank You Very Much

by deafpool (castielsass)



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Bottom Eddie Kaspbrak, Dialogue Heavy because of who the characters are as people, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Extremely Middle-Aged Married Sex, Hung Richie Tozier, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, PWP, Prostate Massage, Prostate Orgasm, Richie Tozier Has a Big Dick, Service Top, Service Top Richie Tozier, Smut, Sub Top Richie Tozier, Top Richie Tozier, Topping from the Bottom, i dont make the rules i just follow them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 18:42:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21324862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielsass/pseuds/deafpool
Summary: Richie and Eddie google "service top" and figure some stuff out.STOP REPOSTING THIS FIC ON WATTPAD. IF I HAD WANTED THIS ON A DIFFERENT SITE I WOULD HAVE PUT IT THERE.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, background Mike Hanlon/Bill Denbrough
Comments: 67
Kudos: 1239





	Thank You Very Much

In Eddie’s defence, it was Richie’s idea. He’d sidled up to him in the tiny living room of his apartment - which was odd because Richie didn’t sidle at the best of times- and nudged his way into the corner of the overstuffed couch beside Eddie, and elbowed him into a more comfortable position. He’d had such an energy about him, practically fizzing off his messy hair, and bouncing from his pale skin and Eddie was immediately suspicious. 

“What,” he’d said flatly, and expected a rebuke, or a joke, or a story, anything but what Richie actually said.

“Have you ever heard of a service top?” 

Eddie took a long, slow drink of his tea and watched Richie squirm in a wriggling, sincere kind of excitement. 

“Yeah,” he chose to say, slowly, which was more of a giveaway that he’d perhaps wanted. He wrapped both hands around his grey mug, and watched Richie over the rim. Richie elbowed him, forcing the tea to slop up the side. 

“Come on, asshole, give me something to work with here-” Richie started and Eddie grabbed his lifting arm and jammed it into the space between the couch and his side. 

“What the fuck does that mean,” Eddie started, and kept Richie’s arm pinned to stop his pointy elbows jabbing him. “Give you what to work with, all you did was wander up to me and ask if I’d heard of a kink thing and then yell at me, what the fuck-”

“It’s not a kink thing! It’s not a kink thing!” Richie insisted, and wriggled harder to release his arm. 

“It’s _so_ a kink thing!” Eddie yelled, and then gulped the rest of his tea, even though it burned his tongue lightly, to stop Richie from spilling it. He leaned forward to plant the mug on the scratched up table, and Richie took the opportunity to free his arm. “That’s not even the fucking point, my point is; what are you talking about, you can’t just say words at me and expect me to know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s literally how conversations work, but-”

“-if you say “wig” again I’m gonna eat your fucking face off-”

“We’re getting off track,” Richie said firmly, and then grabbed one of the cushions, smashed it into his own stomach and wrapped his arms around it, like he was afraid it was going to escape. “The point is, my point is that you are not creating a very welcoming environment for me to talk about my ideas right now.”  
Eddie heaved a deep sigh, and lifted his bare foot up. He nudged to handle of his mug with his toe, and wondered if it was too early to fill it with booze. He didn’t think they even had alcohol in the house though, he drank less with Richie than he ever had before, which he’d always explained away as being because of Richie’s alcohol problem, but in a sadder, more selfish reality, Eddie was pretty sure he just didn’t want to drink the way he always had before. “I’m listening, I’m open, I’m totally receptive,” he said flatly, and Richie immediately lurched into a leer. 

“Oh, I _know_ just how receptive y-”

“I’m listening! You literally just asked me to listen and I’m listening, so get your fucking mind out of the gutter and tell me about your sexual fantasy!”

“Oh my God,” Richie said.

“What?” 

“Nothing, I just… Man, just. I keep thinking, all along, just ever since we got together how fuckin’ stoked teenage Richie would be, and I just imagined how Teen Richie would have reacted to that sentence,” Richie said, fondly. Eddie smirked at him, and leaned against the pillow in Richie’s lap, a little thrill of excitement and pride fluttering through him. 

“I’m listening,” Eddie said quietly. 

“Ok, Dr. Crane,” Richie started. 

“What- who even makes Frasier jokes anymore, how fucking old are you? You’re fucking decrepit. Get your dick away from me,” Eddie said. Richie heaved with laughter under him, shaking the whole end of the couch. 

“We’re the same age-” Richie said through giggles, and Eddie tucked his feet up under him, putting an elbow in Richie’s ribs to lever himself up to look at him, and getting a melodramatic ‘oof’ for his efforts.

“You’re fucking ancient, I’m gonna run off with Mike-”

“Mike is only like four months younger than me,” Richie wheezed, and Eddie worried he’d need to dig out his own inhaler for him if he kept laughing so hard. 

“But spiritually, like maturity wise, actually, he’s so much older. We’re gonna elope, it’ll be great, you can be my best man,” Eddie added, just to make Richie laugh again.

“Bill can be Mike’s best man, and it’ll be a whole Four Weddings and a Funeral bit, I’ll steal you right off the altar and Bill can try duel you for Mike’s hand-”

“There were absolutely no duels in Four Weddings and a Funeral-”

“I can’t believe this,” Richie lamented. “I’m here, opening up about my thoughts and desires and dreams and your response is that you’re gonna run away with our friend, and leave me, and then you bitch about my references.”

“I can’t believe you put those on the same par,” Eddie said. “But whatever, fine, I’m listening.” He saw Richie start to open his mouth again, and cut across him, dryly. “Anyone ever tell you you use humour as a defence mechanism?”

“Never,” Richie swore.

“I’m actually listening, I’m being serious, ok? Talk to me,” Eddie urged, and Richie rescued the couch cushion from where it had been slipping down to the floor. He hugged it. 

“I’m just saying, like… it could be fun. You know.” Richie said, and Eddie nodded at him encouragingly. Except he didn’t continue, so Eddie scowled and tried to pick up on the thread of conversation and push onwards. 

“So… what are you saying, like you’d like to… what, like you want me to top but be like, bossy about it?”

“What?” Richie said. “Firstly, you’re always bossy, secondly, what?”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me!” Eddie said frustratedly. “Is it like, that you’re sick of topping? Because you’re gonna have to walk me through it, I’m not gonna lie, but-”

“I have no idea where you’re getting any of this,” Richie informed him. “You literally heard one word and you’re just making shit up.”

Eddie threw his hands up in confusion and frustration. “Then use your words! I don’t know what you want!”

“Yeah, I will, but like, first, are you actually being serious that you think I’m sick of topping, because no lie, that’s the funniest shit you’ve ever said in your life.”

Eddie picked at the seam of his shorts idly, and not for the first time, hoped his attempts at soundproofing the apartment were successful. He’d spent days googling and buying soft furnishings in the hope that they’d muffle them both. They were loud people, and Eddie was worried about how to react to a potential noise complaint. 

“I’m just saying, I’m worried it’s not fair,” Eddie said earnestly. “That like,” he waved his hands through the air, as though the right words were swimming in front of him and needed to be caught. “That I always get to bottom, and be like, taken care of, and-”

“That’s literally exactly what I’m trying to tell you, that I want that,” Richie said. “I don’t want you to top me, dude, because like, I’m just not that into it-”

“Don’t call me ‘dude’ when I’m talking about having sex with you,” Eddie said. 

“-sorry. I wanna fuck you, but I want you to like…” Richie shrugged helplessly and Eddie took pity on him. 

“We can… google it, and figure it out together,” Eddie said kindly. “Or have you forgotten how to use a computer, you decrepit fuck?” 

Richie giggled. “Grab my laptop, babe.”

“Don’t call me ‘babe’ when I’m making fun of you,” Eddie said, just to make Richie laugh. He got up, and swiped the skinny little macbook from the desk in the corner where Richie wrote. 

He put it carefully on the coffee table, and pulled it closer to the couch, and turned to check the room instinctively, just in case someone had somehow snuck into their apartment and was about to catch them being gay together. He opened the computer and tabbed away from a google doc with Richie’s newest material on it - a mess of random one liners and youtube urls that didn’t make sense to anyone else but Richie - and typed into “service top” to google, and clicked on a random result. A page opened, a blog with photos, and a repeating gif of various handsome young men.

“You didn’t even open a private browser,” Richie lamented. “Now I’m gonna be getting ads for like, gags and whips and butt-clamps for the rest of my life.”

“What’s a fucking butt-clamp? Did you just confuse nipple clamps and butt-plugs? Richie, promise me you’ll never ever do that in real life.”

Richie looked as confused as Eddie for a moment, as he tried to retrace his own thoughts. They stared at each other for a minute, the laptop screen painting a blackish reflection of a young gentleman dressed in leather across Richie’s face. “I think a butt clamp is a welding thing,” Richie said eventually. 

“Hey, quick question,” Eddie said. “What the fuck?”

“I think I heard Mike or Ben say it once, and it’s just been stuck in my brain ever since and I also think I’ve just badly misunderstood the purpose.”

Eddie immediately pulled his phone out and typed “hey what’s a butt clamp” to the group chat. “Like, fundamentally,” he reassured him. 

The groupchat lit up with a response and Eddie turned the screen to Richie.  
“Are you talking about the welding clamp? Please be talking about the welding clamp,” Mike’s message read. 

“It’s a welding clamp,” Eddie informed Richie. His phone vibrated in his hand again.

“Pls don’t put a welding clamp near each other, don’t be misled by the name,” said Mike.  
Eddie tapped ‘thnx’ into the chat quickly.  
“I love u both very much don’t make me have to pick one of u up from the hospital,” said Mike and Eddie automatically typed in “we love u 2, deal” and put his phone face down on the coffee table. “Ok, what were we talking about? Oh, your freaky sex thing.”

“It’s not freaky!” Richie insisted and Eddie cast a long look at the website still open on Richie’s laptop. “That is not representative of the kink.”

“I knew it was a kink! I told you!”

“Oh my God, blow me, ok, so it’s a kink-”

“Have you ever done it before?” Eddie immediately needed to know for some reason.

“What the fuck? No,” Richie said with laughter in his voice. “Have you seen me?”

“I don’t know what that means,” Eddie said honestly. 

Richie gestured at himself, starting at his fluffy, messy hair, and sweeping past his huge glasses - that were still cracked on the bridge, Eddie needed to call the opticians tomorrow and make an appointment- and over his goofy shirt that had small dancing hot dogs printed all over it to his shredded jeans allowing flashes of pale hairy legs, and his oversized feet.

“I don’t know what your point is,” Eddie said, and Richie looked at him fondly. 

“Oooh,” said Eddie, reading ahead in the blog. “_One may enjoy service topping for the sole sensation of making their partner feel pleasured, or they may wish to be directed by their partner-_” Eddie trailed off, catching sight of Richie’s leg bouncing. He flicked his eyes up to Richie’s face, and he had turned a bright, shocking red. 

“Or both, I guess,” Richie said, faux-breezily. He fiddled with the seam of the cushion between his fingers. “Y’know, I’m a people-pleaser, that’s why I’m a comedian. And plus, ever since I first made you laugh when we were kids, I’ve been an Eddie-pleaser, too. Don’t act like it doesn’t track,” Richie said, and Eddie looked at him for a long moment, and noted the red high up on Richie’s cheeks, his bitten-swollen lips and the pillow in his lap. He looked almost comically turned-on at his own joke, and Eddie reflexively pushed down the hot stirrings of real arousal. 

“Right now?” Eddie asked, almost scandalized. “It’s barely six pm. It’s light out.”

“People have sex in the daytime,” Richie said. “I don’t know why you do this every time.”

“We haven’t even eaten dinner yet,” Eddie mumbled.

“I’ll make you dinner after, if you want,” Richie promised, and then looked faintly worried for a second. “Or we can eat now. Or just hang out. Whatever you want, I’m not pushing.”

“Hmm,” Eddie said aloud, unintentionally. He touched the pillow in Richie’s lap lightly, and checked the room again automatically. There was still nobody in the apartment, of course, only them. It was warm, and safe. Eddie got up and closed the curtains in the room, drawing them over the clean, big window. He sat back on the couch, tucked himself in to the side with his back against the arm, watched Richie, and put his thumb in his mouth. “Are you hard, already?” Eddie asked, and pressed forward with his foot, pushed the cushion into Richie’s lap. He waited for Richie, to see if he’d make a joke, but he didn’t, he only let out a surprisingly shakey breath. 

“Hey, c’mon, I asked you a question,” Eddie said, quietly, and pushed the flat of his foot against the cushion. He didn’t need an answer. He could feel the stiff, long line of Richie’s cock under the thin stuffing. “When did you get hard?”

“Eds-” Richie started and Eddie tucked his own fingers under the hem of his shorts, tugging on them to give himself more space.

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie said, like he had a million times before, and would another million, but there was a power behind it now, something freshly exciting. 

“Sorry,” Richie said lamely, and Eddie could feel his hips flexing minutely under the cushion.

“Don’t do that,” Eddie said sharply and Richie gasped, and stilled his hips. Eddie rewarded him with a light press, guiding his heel gently up the long length of his cock. “When did you get hard, Rich?”

Richie gave a light shiver at the sound of his own name, and fell back, holding himself up on his elbows against the other arm of the couch. His fingers clenched in the arm, scratching against the fabric. “When you asked me if I wanted you to top.”

“Hmm?” Eddie asked, confused. “What did it for you?” 

“The uh… You….Jesus, Eddie, do I have to do this?” Richie asked.

“Course not,” Eddie said easily, and watched Richie’s fingers relax against the couch. “But I want you to.”

“Oh,” Richie breathed, and Eddie watched a faint blush darken his cheeks again, his face lightly sheened with sweat. “Ok, then. You phrased it funny. You said uh… you said you always _get_ to bottom, like you were thinking it was… uh, like, that it was such a good thing that you _get_ to take it that you were worried that I was missing out. And it just made me hard because I wanna take care of you and the way you said it made me feel good, like I give you what you want so well that you’re fucking... worried about being selfish.” 

Richie’s cock twitched under Eddie’s foot, and Eddie quickly reached up to his own shorts and unbuttoned them for room. “You always give me what I want, Rich,” Eddie said quietly and Richie swore under his breath. “Keep talking.”

“Fuck, just… it’s fucking hot that you think that taking my cock is like, a fucking favor I’m doing for you,” Richie said, with laughter under his breath. “Like I’m - fuck - I’m just - and when we’re in bed sometimes you hold me like I can’t get close enough to you, and you s-sometimes you scratch up my back like you’re fucking _crazy_ for it, and I just want to make you come, and come until you’ve had enough, ” Richie said, and he was losing track, and not making much sense, but Eddie was so hard now, and he wanted to go to bed, he wanted Richie to shut up and carry him to the bedroom, because he could do that. It wasn’t as impressive as it sounded because the bedroom was a scant five feet away from the living room, but it still made Eddie’s blood run hot when he did. 

“God,” Eddie muttered, and tugged the hem of his shirt loose, to give himself more breathing room. “Richie, come on, I wanna go to bed.” 

Richie reeled forward, fast enough for it to almost be funny, but Eddie was too busy pulling his shorts off, leaving them on the couch, because he felt like he was going to die if he was trapped in them any longer. “Hey, will you carry me?” Eddie asked and instead of answering, Richie slid his big hands under Eddie’s bare thighs and lifted him up. Eddie shivered, and wrapped his thighs around Richie’s narrow waist, and held on to the back of his neck. Richie carried him to the bed, and Eddie sank into the clean muted purple comforter. 

“Take your clothes off - and close the door, were you born in a barn?” Eddie ordered and sat on his ass, and took his own shirt, socks and boxers off. Richie shut the door and stood by the bed, and Eddie watched him pull his shirt from his shoulders and drop it on the floor. He picked up the hem of the soft, heather henley he’d been wearing underneath and tugged it off. 

“Hey, you have no idea how close I was to blowing, on the couch,” Richie said conversationally, and Eddie blinked, and took a moment to tear his gaze away from the soft, wide curve of Richie’s hips. Richie was so much bigger than him, in every way, taller and broad enough that when he fucked him, his hips pushed Eddie’s thighs apart for him. His cock was leaking into his boxers, Eddie could see the dark pool on the pale fabric. “What?” He said, stupidly. 

“I said I was so close, on the couch,” Richie repeated. “Stop staring at my dick, I’m a human being.” He pulled his boxers down, and his cock bobbed up, hard against the pale slight softness of his lower belly. Faintly pink, and so hard, and big, Eddie pressed his thighs together briefly to alleviate his wanting ache. 

“Yeah,” Eddie said, and stared at Richie’s cock. “Hey, come here, and will you kiss me while you finger me?” 

“I’ll do anything you want,” Richie said, and sounded dazed. He reached into the bedside drawer and quickly retrieved the bottle of _organic_ lube that Eddie insisted on. He climbed into the bed, slotting into the vee of Eddie’s thighs, and Eddie pulled him close. 

“In that case,” Eddie said, “Kiss me, and finger me, and I wanna come before you fuck me." 

“Ok,” Richie breathed, and kissed him. He was shaking lightly on top of Eddie and Eddie had it in his head to have Richie fingerfuck him, and then ride him, hold onto the headboard and drive himself down on Richie’s cock, but he was suddenly overcome with the amount of power he had. He could do anything, and he knew Richie would probably do it, would probably love to do it. Richie’s fingers were warm against his hole, and Eddie kissed him again, always pleased at the extra moment Richie always took to warm the lube up between his fingers. He could turn Richie over, and ride his face, or he could push Richie down and have him suck his cock and finger him. Richie would do anything, Eddie realised. The rush of power was intoxicating, and Eddie scratched Richie’s scalp, wrapped his fingers into his messy hair and tugged it. 

“Come on,” he urged, and lifted his legs higher around Richie’s waist. Richie made some nonsense hushing sound, lovely and mindless. Eddie reached between his legs and gripped Richie’s wrist, lay his fingers along the warm stretch of the back of his hand and urged him in deeper. Richie obeyed, so kind and Eddie could have kissed him for it as he sank a third finger inside, and twined them together. 

“Like this?” Richie asked, and Eddie shivered lightly. 

“Yeah,” he said hoarsely. “Richie, talk to me." 

“Talk to you?” Richie repeated, and worked his fingers back and forth slowly until Eddie’s hips lifted repeatedly up into his hand. 

“Yeah, talk to me, c’mon, y’know-” Eddie said, and Richie used his free hand to take a pillow from the head of the bed. He slipped it under Eddie’s ass to lift him better. 

“I love you-” Richie started earnestly and Eddie snorted. 

“That’s not - I love you, too - but that’s so not what I meant,” Eddie said and Richie laughed into the hollow of his throat. 

“I wasn’t finished,” Richie defended himself, and curled his slick fingers forward gently. “But while you’re on the subject, I love you, and you’re so handsome and I can’t believe you let me do this to you.” 

Eddie had never laughed during sex before Richie. He’d only ever been with two women, and he couldn’t imagine Myra doing anything to make him laugh, or reacting with anything other than worry if he had ever laughed, even in the best times, way before the divorce. Richie made him laugh all the time. 

“You like it,” Eddie said, thoughtlessly and Richie rewarded him for his boldness with a slow, long stroke over his spot. 

“I do like it,” Richie agreed quickly. He pressed even closer to Eddie, held in the warm bowl of his body, and Eddie wrapped one hand around Richie’s upper arm to feel his bicep moving. “I love it, I love to make you feel good, is it good?” 

“It’s so good,” Eddie assured him, and reached with his free hand to cup the back of Richie’s head and guide his mouth down to his throat. “Keep going.”

“Hmm?” Richie asked, mindlessly. He nuzzled in closer to Eddie’s throat, and laid soft kisses along the side, fingerfucked him faster. 

“C’mon Rich, tell me something hot,” Eddie urged, his thighs tightening up around Richie’s waist. The angle had to be fucking with Richie’s wrist, but he didn’t slow down, didn’t seem to care. 

“You were the first person I ever jacked off to,” Richie said dreamily, and Eddie gave him an incredulous look. 

“What the fuck-” 

Richie seemed to wake up a little, and he grinned at Eddie. “I’m actually serious, you gave me friction burn on my dick-" 

_“That is so not true-”_

“It is true!” Richie insisted. His fingers slowed to a stop, resting just inside Eddie and Eddie squirmed, and pressed his hips down in search for more. “It’s true, I used to jack off thinking about holding your fuckin’ hand, and weird shit, and then I got older and I totally used to jack off thinking about giving it to you real good.” 

“You’re an idiot,” Eddie said, and huffed. “Are you gonna fuck me, or what?” He demanded, and lifted his hips onto Richie’s hand again. 

“Yeah,” Richie said agreeably, and pushed his fingers, crossed over each other, and slick, inside again. “It’s true though, I always wanted to fuck you.” 

“Shut up,” Eddie huffed and Richie giggled into his throat. “No you didn’t, stop it. Go faster.”  
Richie obeyed, working his wrist and properly fucking him on his fingers, and stroking lightly over his spot on the push in. “I did, I do,” he cooed. 

“Don’t make me come when you’re being an idiot,” Eddie begged and Richie laughed outright, his softly furred chest rubbing over Eddie’s skin warmly. 

“You always made my dick hard,” Richie informed him, and Eddie squirmed on his fingers. “Even before I knew what the fuck was happening. You still do. Obviously." 

_“Shut the fu-”_

“Yeah,” Richie said. He worked his hand faster, and Eddie felt his cock leak out a thin stream of precome over heated skin. “I have a crush on you.”  
Eddie laughed, and buried his face into Richie’s shoulder. His fingers trembled and he gripped Richie’s waist tightly. “I have a crush-I’m gonna come.”  
Eddie gasped, his cheeks still hot with embarrassment, and Richie slid his thumb up, and stroked over Eddie’s perineum gently. His stomach muscles jumped and Eddie groaned into Richie’s shoulder, panting hot breath over his skin. 

“It’s me, right? That you have a crush on?” Richie teased, but Eddie couldn’t answer, caught in waves of orgasm. He locked his teeth on Richie’s shoulder and made some muffled, deeply embarrassing noise as he rode it out. After a moment he opened his jaw, blinking away the haze and checking Richie’s skin for breaks. Just a red mark, already bruising. 

“You still hard? You’re good?” Richie checked, and Eddie unlocked his legs stiffly, and let them drop from Richie’s waist to land hard in the mattress. 

“I’m good, I’m so good,” Eddie mumbled, and Richie reached down and touched his cock, rubbing a tiny circle into the slick head until Eddie winced. “Don’t, I’ll come again, and I wanna get fucked." 

“Ok,” Richie breathed, and let go, and Eddie looked down between their bodies. Richie was so hard it looked like it hurt. His cock was dark red, and swollen. Richie twitched as Eddie looked him over, like he was embarrassed, but Eddie was drunk on orgasm, and in the mood to tease, so he wrapped his fingers into Richie’s hair. 

“You want to fuck me, yeah?” He asked, and Richie nodded, his glasses slipping down his nose. His hair was damp with sweat, and Eddie tugged it affectionately. “You’re gonna give it me just how I ask for it, right?” 

“Not if you keep talking,” Richie muttered, and Eddie grinned at him, pink and flushed, and pleased. 

“Yeah, you’re gonna,” Eddie said happily. “I want you, I want you to fuck me from behind, just how I tell you to, ok?" 

“Please stop talking,” Richie said, and lifted one hand to slip under his glasses and rub at his eye. 

“Nah, I have a crush on you,” Eddie said. “And you’re gonna fuck me hard, and rub the head of my cock really slow just like how I like, aren’t you?” 

“Please,” Richie whined, and Eddie looked down to see Richie’s hand clamped tightly on the base of his own cock. 

“Do it,” Eddie ordered and Richie inhaled sharply and turned him over, rough but careful, as always. He manhandled Eddie into position, his knees apart and his upper body flat on the pillows. There was a faint clicking noise as Richie refreshed the lube and readjusted. 

“Do you need more prep?” Richie asked, and Eddie gave a hungry, light little shiver, a last, late remnant of his prostate orgasm dancing over him. 

“Maybe,” Eddie teased, his voice muffled in the pillow. “Maybe I’m gonna need more, need you to get me ready for that big fuckin’ cock-” 

“Why are you _doing_ this to me?” Richie begged. “I was good to you and you’re being so mean to me-” His hand bumped Eddie’s lower back, and he stifled a giggle, feeling the edge of Richie’s fist clamping down on the base of his cock again. 

“I’m not mean!” Eddie said, laughter bubbling up in his chest. “It’s not my fuckin’ fault my man has a huge fuckin’ cock-” 

“_Please_,” Richie begged, and he sounded so genuinely distressed that Eddie took pity on him. 

“Fuck me,” he said, quieter than his jokes, and Richie’s exhale sounded like pure relief and he sank inside. Richie was big, Eddie hadn’t lied, but he was so relaxed and wanting that he pushed inside with nothing more than a faint burn. 

“Fuck, _yes,_” Eddie heard himself moan into the pillow, and Richie shuddered behind him. His skin was so hot where he touched him, where the cup of his pelvis rubbed against Eddie’s ass, a thin layer of sweat, like Richie was burning up. “_Richie,_ fuck,” he slurred, as Richie pressed closer, his big hand landing gently in the middle of Eddie’s lower back as he worked back and forth. 

“Please don’t fucking say my name like that, are you- are you _mad_ at me or something?” Richie demanded. “Why are you making this so hard for me?”  
Eddie laughed, and turned his head away from the pillow to inhale deeply. “I’m the opposite of mad. You’re not gonna come, right?” 

Richie let out a whine, and thrust forward at a bad angle, too deep and Eddie hissed. “No, Rich, angle your hips down, c’mon-” 

Richie obeyed immediately and Eddie gasped sharply. “Yeah, just like that-” He spread his knees apart further, to let Richie get a better angle, and Richie pressed in at the right angle, and his cock rubbed over Eddie’s abused spot. His hand shot out and he gripped the headboard, as precome dripped down from the heavy head of his cock.

“Just like that, Rich, you’re not gonna come until I tell you to, right, you’re gonna keep fucking me until I’m finished, right?” Eddie mumbled, his face crushed in the pillow, Richie’s weight heavy and hot behind him. 

Richie’s hands slid down to wrap around Eddie’s hips, his fingertips hot on Eddie’s pelvis. 

“No, I’m gonna do what you want,” Richie rambled, and Eddie was sure he wasn’t even listening to himself, not even half-aware of what he was saying, but Eddie was in no place to complain. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, God, I’m so fucking hard,” he muttered. “Just like this?” 

“Yeah,” Eddie gasped, and gripped onto the headboard so hard he could feel the thin wood slat pinch his skin. “Touch my cock, right now, c’mon-” 

Richie didn’t even let him finish his sentence, he kept fucking him at that same angle, although his calves were cramping with each thrust. He reached and gripped Eddie’s cock, and tucked his thumb under the head and rubbed it slow and soft. Eddie whined under him and clenched rhythmically, and Richie felt his desperation leave him suddenly, in one great fell swoop. He moved his hips at the angle that made Eddie pant, and was so careful to stroke his cock just the way he liked it, and the satisfaction from doing exactly what Eddie wanted poured through him, made his blood run hot and pleased. Eddie moaned, and Richie stopped worrying he was going to come too soon, he could do whatever Eddie wanted. If Eddie wanted him to stay hard and in his bed so he could come in and use his cock whenever he wanted, Richie could do that, he’d be grateful to do that, there wasn’t anything better in the world that making Eddie come. 

Suddenly, Eddie’s hand flew back, cramped from clenching on the headboard, and snatched at Richie’s hip. He dragged Richie in faster, and Richie copied his lead, and spread his knees so he could get low, and thrust in a slow, filthy grind. Eddie’s cock throbbed under his fingers, and he clenched down so hard on Richie’s cock that it almost hurt. Richie petted Eddie’s back with his free, trembling hand, as the other one massaged his cock. Eddie came into his fingers, dripping so much Richie’s hand was soaked in it. 

“God, _fuck_, Rich,” Eddie said dizzily. His face was buried in the pillow again, and Richie let go of his cock when he twitched with oversensitivity. “That - so fucking good, are you gonna come?” 

“Can I, on you?” Richie asked desperately, and Eddie moaned into the pillow, and shivered lightly. 

“Yeah, whatever you want,” he slurred. Richie eased out, and held onto Eddie’s hips for a moment, and paused in shock. 

“I can?” 

“What?” Eddie asked, stupidly. 

“Come on you?” 

“What? No, I got carried away.” 

“Awh, Eds, come on, pl-” 

Eddie huffed, and turned over. His hair was a wreck, his lips bitten red and swollen, and he looked sweaty and satisfied and Richie felt pride flareup in his stomach. “Fine but you have to help me into the shower then,” he threatened, and Richie grinned at him. He wrapped his hand around his cock and Eddie watched him lazily, as he jacked off hard and fast. He straddled Eddie’s thigh, and fucked his fist and Eddie watched him with half-lidded eyes. 

“Hey,” Eddie said quietly, and reached out to lay his hand on Richie’s upper thigh. “You did so good.” 

“_Fuck_,” Richie gasped sharply. He looked down briefly, and saw a splash of Eddie’s come drying on his fingers. 

“Yeah,” Eddie mumbled, as he petted Richie’s thigh gently. “You can come, you were so good to me, Rich-” 

Richie’s orgasm hit him like a fireball, suddenly enveloping him and he convulsed forward, and gasped and watched his come land pale and wet on Eddie’s lower stomach. 

“Yeah?” Richie asked afterwards, Eddie curled into his back and idly petting his hip. “Yeah,” Eddie agreed, and kissed the knob of bone at the top of his spine. 


End file.
